Naminèlla
by Moonshine's Guide
Summary: A parody of the Brothers Grimm classic CInderella. Naminè is an orphan, abused by her stepmother, until one night at the ball… Pairings: Marluné, VexenOC, Mentions of Zemyx, XemSai. R&R please! Some expletives.


**Hello! Welcome to my first ever parody fanfiction. Last weekend, a plot bunny attacked me and wouldn't let me rest until I finished this. And of course, I finished right as my Sunday evening computer time allotment ended. Thus I had to wait for a five days to post this, as I am not allowed to be on during the weekdays. (sigh) So here I am, humbling posting this. **

**As mentioned during the summary (hopefully) this is a Cinderella parody, with Naminè as Cinderella, Marluxia as the Prince, and Larxene as the evil stepmother. The others will be quite apparent as the story progresses. **

**The main pairings are Marluxia/Naminè, Vexen/OC, as well as some slight mentions of Larxene/Luxord, Xemnas/Saix, and Zexion/Demyx.**

**I'm sorry if any of the pairings disgust you, but they are mentioned in the story, some more so then others. I hope I uploaded this correctly. I'm worried about the accent on Naminè. So anyways, I thank you for taking the time to read this and I truly hope you enjoy the story. Now to begin the story.**

**Naminèlla**

Once upon a time(or maybe twice) there was a kingdom that existed far, far away. It was a peaceful kingdom, the last war or bloody conflict having last occurred over fifty years ago. Peace existed everywhere.

Well, everywhere except for Naminè's house.

Naminè was an orphan who lived with her stepmother and her stepsisters. Her mother had died when Naminè was very young. Luxord, her father, had been heartbroken, but he recognized the fact that without a mother to guide Naminè through life and to introduce her to proper society, Naminè would not advance in the world. So Luxord remarried after the proper mourning period. He remarried to a woman named Larxene, a proper woman of notable lineage who was a widow, her husband having died several years previously. Larxene had two daughters, Kairi and Selphie, who were about Naminè's age. Everything went fine until Naminè's father passed on when Naminè was seven.

That was when Larxene showed her true colors. She forced Naminè to cook, clean, and slave after her and her two daughters. Thus Naminè was forced into servitude in what used to be her own home. Naminè made no protest at first, as she was still shaken by her father's sudden passing. But when she did try to protest… Larxene beat her and forced her to slave harder. Naminè quickly learned to be silent about her stepmother's actions.

There was one good thing about the fact that she had to do all of the chores. That meant that she was allowed to go into the market once or twice a week, to pick up groceries and other necessities. It was there that she met her only friends: Florence, Zexion, and Demyx. The three worked at the palace. Zexion was an assistant librarian who also worked as a coachman if needed, Demyx was one of the court minstrels, and Florence was an apprentice to Vexen, the court magician. The four of them got along very well, meeting up when they could, sharing stories with Naminè of palace life with the royal family, King Xemnas and his only child, Prince Marluxia.

"The prince sounds very nice," Naminè admitted to Florence one day as she was buying groceries. Florence had met up her earlier as she had to purchase some potion supplies. The others couldn't make it.

"He is," Florence mumbled around a mouthful of an apple. "Galinda, one of the maids, says that he's hot. But he's not as hot as Master Vexen." She sighed, thinking of the court magician and her teacher. She caught Naminè's glance and flushed, stammering out the next sentences. "He's out of town though. Diplomatic mission to Djose. Don't know when he'll be back. Speaking of returns, we better hurry. Otherwise the bitch will beat you."

"You shouldn't call her that Florence. She's my stepmother," Naminè responded, purchasing the groceries that she had picked out.

"I call'em as I see'em," Florence said, shifting that basket that she carried. "Don't you wish that you were free of them?"

"Yes, but…" A voice interrupted Naminè's protest.

"Clear the way! Clear the way for the Prince!" a voice called. The people parted like the Red Sea did for Moses. A entourage on horseback passed through the Market.

"There he is! That's Prince Marluxia," Florence whispered to Naminè, pointing towards a pink haired man on a white stallion.

Naminè blushed slightly and stared at the man. His pink-brown hair brushed his shoulders and his blue eyes glanced out at the crowd. The Prince's and Naminè's eyes connected for a moment before his eyes moved on. Neither of the girls spoke until the Prince and his entourage finished passing.

"He's… really handsome," Naminè said shell shocked.

Florence grinned and took ahold of Naminè's elbow. She began to steer her towards her home. "He's really nice too… now let's get you home before the bitch gets angry at you."

_Later…_

"What took you so long!" Larxene shrieked, backhanding Naminè.

"Sorry ma'am," Naminè mumbled.

"Who do you think you are? The queen? You're lucky I let you stay here!! Ungrateful wretch!" Larxene smacked Naminè again. Naminè bit her tongue so that she wouldn't cry out. That would only make Larxene angrier. Kairi and Selphie tittered over to the side at Naminè's plight.

"Sorry ma'am."

Larxene hit her one more time. "Go make lunch."

"Yes ma'am," Naminè uttered as she fled the room.

_At the Palace…_

"Have you seen Master Vexen?" Florence inquired crossly of one of the palace guards.

The guard scratched his head. "I think he's in a meeting with their highnesses and the royal advisor. But I don't think you should…"

"Thanks, bye!" Florence called over her shoulder, as she ran off to the meeting room.

She ran through the castle, the basket with the potion ingredients bouncing against her side. She called out greetings to those who she past, as she wove her way through the many corridors to the meeting room.

She was about to knock when the door was flung open, and hit her. "Gawd dammit, my nose," she shrieked in a very unladylike way. Clutching her nose, she began to scold whoever flung open the door. "Who's the big jerk, flinging open the door like that… oh uh, your highness… um, oh dear I didn't mean it," Florence clumsily curtseyed, both in apology and greeting. Marluxia raised an eyebrow.

"What brings you here Florence?" He asked, pausing in the doorway.

"I heard Master Vexen was here. Cure," Florence explained, while she healed her nose.

"You just missed him," Marluxia replied glancing over his shoulder at the two figures who sat in the room. Florence peered around him and went crimson.

"Your highness, your grace, I beg your pardon," Florence stammered, embarrassed.

"There is no need to Miss Florence," Xemnas responded coldly, before returning his gaze to his son. "It will be held tonight, and you will be there." Marluxia scowled before shutting the door on his father and Duke Saix.

Marluxia turned and slipped an arm around Florence's. "Sister, Vexen said he would be in his workroom. May I accompany you?"

"I would be honored," Florence said drolly, "Although we are not truly siblings."

"I count you as my sister, disregarding all problems about your birth and its legitimacy." Marluxia replied, although his voice still held an undercurrent of anger.

"So… penny for your thoughts?" Florence asked, pawing through her bag to make sure that the ingredients were all right.

"Have you heard my father's newest plan to find a bride for me?"

"Nope. I try to stay out of your father's way when he plans. He usually keeps Saix around so they can screw in between ideas."

"Thanks for that image."

"You're welcome. So what's his new scheme?"

"He's throwing a masque ball, for all eligible young maidens to attend. Presumably, I'll meet one and instantly fall head over heels in love with her." Marluxia laughed derisively. "Like that will ever happen."

"Oh ye of little faith…" Florence laughed, an idea growing in her head.

"You laugh. It's not your future on the line. If I don't find a girl at this dance, I have to marry Scarlet…"

"The whore?"

"Yes, the whore."

"My sincerest apologizes. You have my pity."

"Thanks," Marluxia snapped sarcastically.

Florence gave him a thumbs up. "You're welcome. And we're here." She gestured to a nearby door. "Coming in?"

"Might as well," Marluxia shrugged, as Florence opened the door.

"Sir, are you here?" she called out as she walked in.

"Over here." Florence skipped over to where Vexen stood.

"Sir, I got the ingredients you asked me to locate," she said, blushing slightly as she stared at her teacher.

Vexen straightened out from where he had been leaning over, working on an experiment. "Put them on the table," he murmured absently, looking at Florence pruriently from the corner of his eyes.

Florence nodded and moved to place the basket on the table. "Anything else sir?" she asked shyly, admiring Vexen's profile. Covertly, of course. Vexen passed her an ancient tome. "Study this book. Pay particular attention to the matter transformation spells. You still need to work on your endurance with that particular type of spell. Go practice."

Florence nodded. "Yes sir!" She tried to linger but she had to go practice. She stole one last glance of her teacher, and left the room sighing.

Marluxia had silently watched the entire exchange. "You should go and court her already. I'm sure my father wouldn't mind. Probably would hand you a ring to propose with too."

Vexen's head snapped up. "Mind your own business."

Marluxia smirked and approached Vexen. He slung an arm around the magician's shoulders. "Well, you do a really horrible job of hiding the fact that you like her… and she does an even worse job of hiding the fact that she loves you. You're perfect for each other!"

"Go away. These are my problems…" Vexen groaned, praying Marluxia would leave him alone, as he turned back to his experiment.

"So you admit it…"

"I don't care if you're the crown Prince, leave or I will put a curse on you." Vexen threatened, desperately wanting this conversation to end.

"You wouldn't. Florence would never forgive you."

Vexen glared at Marluxia angrily. "Fine. Well, at least I have time to figure out how to ask her out." he spat out. "What are you going to do about tonight?"

It was Marluxia's turn to scowl. "I have to go. My father won't let me do anything else until I do."

"No more escaping on diplomatic missions?" Vexen prodded.

Marluxia nodded and groaned. "This is a disaster. I'm not going to be able to get myself out of this."

"It was bound to happen sometime. Your father wants an heir so he can rest easily. He doesn't want his brother to inherit."

"Dad certainly knows how to hold a grudge…"

Vexen shrugged. "You should have known that it would come to something like this. Just bite the bullet and deal with it. Not all women are horrid. Florence, for example."

"She's my half-sister. I couldn't marry her. Nor would she let me. She would knock you unconscious and drag you off to marry her, if forced to." Marluxia smiled in remembrance of a fiery declamation Florence had made right before he left on the last diplomatic mission. His smile disappeared. "Why does my father never acknowledge her?"

"Because she reminds him of her mother. Your father never was lucky with women; they all seemed to die in childbirth. I believe that's why he chose to switch to male lovers." Vexen began to go through the potion ingredients. "How does she get these ingredients so quickly? When I go to fetch them, the shopkeepers all seem to take so long…"

"Perhaps it's because they like to help a pretty young woman. Be careful, you might get some competition," Marluxia joked.

"What?!" Vexen yelped in shock.

"Nothing. Now, I'm off to suffer… find an outfit to wear… look at my garden… go spar."

"Have fun!" Vexen replied, a facetious tone in his voice.

Marluxia rolled his eyes and started to leave. He paused before he left the room. "You know, you should escort Florence to the dance. It would make her happy… and it would be an excellent first date." he said slyly, before ducking out of the room.

Vexen growled as slight pink tinge appeared on his cheeks. "Impudent whelp."

_Naminè's house…_

Naminè was cleaning the floor of the entrance hall. She had pulled her blond hair back with a handkerchief, as she scrubbed the floor. Naminè sighed and contemplated covering her ears. Her stepsisters were practicing their music. They weren't very good.

Naminè flinched as Selphie missed yet another note. Through the discord, a single beautiful note rang through the house.

"Coming," Naminè called out as she set down her cleaning cloth and proceeded to the door. She cautiously opened it. "How might I be of… oh, how are you Demyx? Where's Zexion?" She smiled warmly at her friend. He was dressed in palace livery, looking much neater than he usually did. He had slung his sitar on his back.

"He's busy. Cataloging the library. I think… he's being emo, but I'm pretty sure I can cheer him up… wait. I'm not here to chit chat… Now where did I put it?" He began to frantically search his pockets. "Ah here it is," he said sheepishly, pulling out a stiff letter. He handed it to Naminè. "Remember it applies to ALL eligible maidens. That includes you." Demyx smiled cheerily. "I have to go deliver some more. See ya tonight!!" He ran off waving.

Naminè laughed a tad at Demyx's energy, but soon she turned her attention to the letter Demyx had handed her. It had the royal seal on it. Naminè gasped, and ran upstairs.

She paused at the door to the music parlor. She could hear the off key music of her stepsisters. She knew she would get in trouble if she went in, but if she waited to deliver the invitation she would get hit as well. The results would be worse if she didn't deliver it right away. She knocked and entered. Her sisters stopped singing. Larxene rose to her feet.

"What have I told you about disturbing our practices? Why are you interrupting you useless whore?" Larxene moved as to strike Naminè.

Naminè flinched away. "Wait!" she stuttered, " A letter came!" She held out the letter appeasingly.

Larxene snatched up the letter. She scanned it quickly, then reread it more slowly. A feral grin slowly spread across her face.

"Girls, this is just what we've been waiting for! Their highnesses are throwing a masque ball in celebration of the Prince's return. All eligible maidens are invited to attend! Do you hear that girls? This is our chance! The Prince could notice you!" Kairi and Selphie squealed as Larxene continued.

"May I go?" Naminè's voice quietly intruded on the scene.

All of the other's attention were immediately drawn to Naminè.

"You? Go to the ball?" Kairi sneered.

"Her? Dancing with the Prince?" Selphie mocked. In an attempted mimicry, she began, " I'd be honored your highness. Would you mind holding my broom?" The two burst out in sniggers.

"Well, why not? The invitation said ' by royal command every eligible maiden is to attend'." Naminè protested.

Larxene paused in thought. "Yes, so it does. Well I see no reason why you can't go, if you finish your chores…"

Naminè's eyes sparkled. "Thank you so much!"

"And find a dress and mask." Larxene finished. Naminè her spirits began to fall. She had no dress. But she could find one. She hoped.

"Naminè?" Larxene's voice resounded sweetly. Naminè froze, hardly daring to breathe. Whenever Larxene sounded like that, something horrible happened. "You still have some chores left, don't you?"

It was then that Kairi and Selphie caught on. "Yeah, Naminè you still have to do our laundry…"

"Do our hair…"

"get us into our dresses…"

"Clean our jewelry…"

Larxene joined in. "Polish the furniture, clean the tapestries, clean the fireplaces, prepare dinner, wash the sheets, make the beds, and make sure the house is clean."

Naminè's spirits had been sinking throughout the entire listing of the chores. But when they finished, a sort of determination arose in her soul. She squared her shoulders and set to work.

_Around 7 o'clock that evening…_

Naminè wearily set down the broom, and sank into a chair.

"Naminè, you're not ready. Aren't you going?" Naminè glanced up into the smirking eyes of her Stepmother.

"I… still have to clean the fireplaces." Naminè replied.

"Oh, that's too bad," Larxene responded, not even bothering to hide the sarcasm. "Well, there's always next time." Kairi and Selphie twittered from their positions behind their mother. Their gowns swished as they exited the front door and climbed into the waiting carriage.

Naminè burst into tears. All day, the three of them had harried and hassled her. They had dirtied rooms she had just cleaned, and had made everything in general harder. Now she wouldn't be able to go to the dance. She ran out back to the garden, the garden that her mother had so loved.

She sometimes felt that her mother's spirit lingering out there. She collapsed onto a bench and let the tears come.

An arm slipped around her shoulders. "Don't cry. C'mon Naminè stop crying, before I start." Naminè sniffled and looked up. Florence sat there. "What's the matter? Larxene being a bitch?"

Naminè beat back the urge to giggle. "Don't you get in trouble for that type of language at the palace?"

"Oh yes, but I love the shock on their faces when I do…" Florence smiled.

Naminè shook her head at her friends antics. "I… wanted to go tonight… but I can't. I haven't finished my chores… and I don't have a dress… and Larxene would kill me if I did go," she explained to her friend.

Florence twitched. "Who cares what that old hag thinks? You're going or my name isn't Florence de Hastert."

"But…" Naminè began weakly.

"No buts. I'll use my magic to finish the chores, and the rest to conjure up a dress." Florence nodded to herself. "Yeah. I'll be your fairy godmother. Godfriend. Whatever." She pulled Naminè to her feet. "What do you have left to do?"

"Just the fireplaces…"

"Okay!" Florence broke out into a run, pulling Naminè along. She slid into the house. "Where are the fireplaces?"

"The kitchen, the front parlor… the others aren't used."

"Stay here." With that Florence sprinted off. Naminè shook her head at her friend's antics.

Before Naminè knew it, Florence was back, cheerily happy, and ushering her into the front parlor. "All right then, let's get started." She circled around Naminè, observing her, and mumbling at the same time. "Let's see… white… yes definitely white… it's your first ball so you're technically a debutante… Full skirt… yes… oh and a mask… something simple… just to cover the eyes and the cheeks… yeah… let's go simple for your hair as well." Florence came to a halt. "Okay, let's do this." Florence placed her palms together, right in front of her chest. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She began to speak in an odd language, one that was both guttural and high-pitched at the same time. It was smooth and harsh seamlessly intertwined. The language itself was a paradox.

While Florence spoke the incantation, bright lights sparkled around Naminè's body. When Florence came to the climax of the spell, the bright lights sank into Naminè's drab gray dress and changed it. Naminè shut her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she was wearing a beautiful white ball gown, that fit to her body perfectly. Her hair was held up by a white ribbon in an elegant coiffure. Her face was hidden by a mask, enough that Larxene would never tell it was her. Naminè exposed her feet. They were encased in glass slippers.

Naminè didn't know what to say. She remained silent for a few seconds, before hugging Florence and repeating "Thank you!!" over and over again.

Florence had an odd smile on her face.

"Don't thank me yet. The spell only lasts till the last stroke of midnight. So be sure that you've left before then, all right?" Florence informed Naminè.

Naminè smiled up at Florence. "Thank you so much. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

Florence grinned. "You can repay me by having a smashing time at the ball. Now come on, let's get you on your way."

An unmarked white carriage stood in the drive, with four matching horses hitched to it. Two figures stood before it, passionately making out. Naminè blushed as Florence sighed in exasperation. "You two! Get a room! Honestly!"

The two figures sprang apart. Zexion was blushing slightly while Demyx looked unabashed. "Well you two were taking so long, we figured we might as well entertain ourselves," Demyx laughed. Zexion said nothing but hopped up onto the driver's seat.

"Oy Vey," Florence groaned. "Well, you two get Naminè to the party ASAP, okay?"

Demyx laughed and opened the door. "After you mademoiselle!" he said in a horrible French accent. Naminè laughed as she stepped up into the carriage. Demyx shut the door, adding, "You're going to be the belle of the ball Naminè." Naminè smiled and blushed slightly at the compliment.

Florence peered through the carriage's window. "Remember, before the last stroke of twelve. Otherwise, the dress, the carriage, everything will disappear. I can't hold the spell for any longer."

Naminè nodded. "Thank you." Zexion started the whipped the horses and they started to trot. Florence waved until the departing carriage exited from sight. She sighed and moved towards where she'd tied up her horse. She gracelessly mounted, and started back towards the palace, praying that her friend would have a wonderful time. Naminè deserved it.

_At the palace…_

Naminè exited the carriage carefully and glanced up at the steps. "We'll be waiting here for you from eleven thirty on, all right Naminè?" Demyx whispered as he shut the door behind her. "Go have fun." Naminè nodded and slowly walked up the stairs.

She cautiously made her way through the corridors and pathways. Zexion had dropped her off at a side entrance, so that she wouldn't have to be formally introduced.

That was why she was able to enter the ball room without much trouble. The room was already crowded. There were many couples dancing, and others simply standing at the side, watching. Naminè looked up. There was a balcony with three men. One had silver hair, while the other was a blunette. The third had dirty blonde hair and was scanning the crowd, as if in search for some one. Naminè realized that these must be the King and Duke Saix. The third was most certainly the court magician Vexen. Florence had certainly described him enough.

Naminè spent what seemed to be an hour taking in the sights. That's when he came. They bumped into each other by accident. The man was dressed as a masked highwayman. They stared bemusedly at each other for a few minutes until the pink haired man remembered his manners. "I beg your pardon."

"It's all right," Naminè managed to get out. The man had the most gorgeous blue eyes…

"Would you give me the next dance?" the man inquired, never breaking eye contact with Naminè.

Naminè nodded, lost in his eyes. He swept her up in his arms and they waltzed away.

She and the man spent the rest of the evening together. They talked, they danced, they wandered around. Naminè didn't notice the jealous stares sent in her direction. She had eyes for only her handsome companion, with his sleek pink hair, his gleaming cerulean eyes, his smirking smile.

They had wandered out into the garden, walking arm in arm, when it happened. They were about to kiss when the clock tower began to strike midnight. Naminè stopped for a moment, before Florence's words returned to her. _'Remember, before the last stroke of midnight'_ Naminè gasped and pulled away.

"What's the matter?" the man asked, concerned.

"I have to go," Naminè whispered, taking off.

"Wait!" the man called after her. "I didn't get your…"

Naminè didn't hear the rest. She had reentered the ball room, ducking through the crowd, rushing, rushing. She burst into the corridor at the other side of the hall, not noticing the man that she had spent the evening with trying to follow her, in a desperate attempt to catch up.

The clock rang out again.

Naminè tripped down the stairs, not noticing when one of her glass slippers fell off. Demyx, Zexion, and the carriage were already waiting for her. Demyx had the door open and ready. Naminè leapt into the carriage as Demyx slammed the door shut and Zexion whipped the horses. They were quickly gone.

The man stood forlorn on the steps, watching his love ride away. It was then that he noticed the glass slipper abandoned on the stairs. A blaze came into his blue eyes as an idea came to life.

_Minstrel's Gallery, the palace_

Florence sat in a chair in the Minstrel's Gallery, in a deep meditation. She was busy keeping several spells going. Naminè's outfit, the carriage, as well as several other foundation spells were in place for Naminè. Then there was the spell that made Florence's normal silver hair appear brown. Her 'father' had requested that. Vexen had done it when Florence was a child, before she knew she had magic, but she handled most of her self image magic now. She also had a glamour on now, so that it at least looked like she was dressed up for the ball. In truth, she had neither the money or the time to go dress shopping. Being an apprentice paid little and most of her time was spent learning. What little money she had went towards spell books and potion ingredients. She also had that project that Vexen assigned going. In other words, most of her magic was tied up.

So now she was very tired. It was approaching midnight, thus she knew she could let go of several spells soon, but she knew she was almost dry. She was going to get in trouble when Vexen saw how much of her magic she had used. It was going to take several days to recover from the magic overuse. She dreaded the next morning.

Florence shifted slightly, as she channeled her magic. She had given up her evening for Naminè. She couldn't have attended the dance and kept the spells going, even if she had had a dress. She would have fainted long ago. She figured that it would be better that Naminè had a nice evening, then if Florence had attended the party and spent the evening uselessly pining after Vexen. This way at least Naminè could have a nice evening and Florence could daydream about Vexen.

Thinking to herself, Florence was highly impressed when she had seen who Naminè's partner was for the evening. Marluxia was a very nice match for Naminè. _'She'll make a very nice sister-in-law. Or half-sister-in-law. Whatever. She'll make a nice in-law either way.' _ Florence watched carefully. Naminè should be leaving soon…

It wasn't until the clock began to strike twelve that Naminè reappeared in Florence's sights. She was rushing to leave. Florence absently bit one of her nails. Naminè had better hurry. Florence could already feel the spell deteriorating. "C'mon," Florence whispered. Another movement caught her eye. A flash of pink. Marluxia was trying to catch up with Naminè. And not doing a good job of it. A crowd of giggling girls were converging on him like a homing beacon. It was what gave Naminè enough time to escape, Florence reasoned.

Florence kept a tight reign on the spell until the last resounding chime from the clock tower disturbed the night. She let the spell go with a sigh. She hoped Naminè had made it. Now she had to figure out how to reach her room without drawing any notice…

Too late. Florence heard the door to the gallery open and whipped around. Vexen was there, dressed simply in a normal black magician's robe, with a mask to cover his face. Not the most inventive, but in Florence's eyes he looked incomparable.

"So this where you were…" he mused, walking into the room. "I've been looking for you." He glanced through the screen that hide the gallery from sight, yet still allowed the people within to gaze out at the ball room. "Nice view."

Vexen turned and stared at her. Florence averted her eyes and stared at the floor. She was aware that she looked horrible, and she had the sneaking suspicion that Vexen knew why. He always could see her magic and she his. It was a reason why most of her pranks that included magic failed. Vexen traced them right back to her.

A hand slipped under her chin and lifted her face to stare into his eyes. Florence stared silently into his emerald orbs. "I'm not sure exactly what magic you worked, but I'm sure you will tell me tomorrow. As for right now, I believe Marluxia is about to go attack me so I'll find that mysterious girl for him." Vexen paused, looking at her in an odd manner. Florence stared up at him, allowing her chin to rest in his hand. Vexen looked as if he was deciding something. Florence knew, because he had narrowed his eyes. He did that when he was in deep thought. Vexen made up his mind. He leaned forward. And did something unexpected. He kissed her.

It was a chaste kiss, just Vexen pressing his lips against hers, but it still sent an ecstatic thrill through her body. Vexen pulled away eventually, a faint blush on his cheeks. "Go sleep," he suggested brusquely. "You need it." And with those parting words of advice he departed.

Florence touched her lips absently as a flush spread across her cheeks. She unsteadily exited the room, happier than she had been in weeks.

_The next morning at Naminè's…_

Naminè sighed, thinking of the man that she had spent last night with. Last night… had been so perfect. She wished it could have gone on forever. But it didn't. And she was back at home, making breakfast for her family.

Naminè bit back a sob. She wished… oh how she wished. All she could remember was the man, that handsome man, his smiles, his chuckles, the feeling of dancing in his arms. She realized now, that she had fallen in love with the man.

But it was useless. They would never see each other again.

Naminè had ridden away in the carriage, her heart aching to return to the man, but she knew she couldn't. They had barely gotten halfway, when the spell had come apart. The dress had gone back to the drab gray affair she normally wore, her hair was unbound. The carriage and the horses had returned to their natural states, a pumpkin and four mice respectively. The only thing that remained was the single glass slipper upon her foot.

Zexion and Demyx had walked her home, making sure that she got there safely. They had said their goodbyes, Zexion and Demyx promising to make sure Florence would visit tomorrow. Naminè had thanked them, for helping her, for giving up their chance at attending the dance, for everything. They had shrugged it off, Demyx protesting that this way, he and Zexion had gotten a long, private make-out session. Zexion elbowed Demyx and dragged him off, calling good-bye over his shoulder, as Demyx tried to appease his lover.

Naminè shook her head at their antics and went inside. She wandered to her tower room, her thoughts clouded by the memory of the man. As she reached her room, and changed into her nightdress, she danced a bit, a phantom of the man joining her. They danced for several minutes, until Naminè curtseyed and the man bowed, disappearing. The tears began slipping out of her eyes and she fell on her bed crying.

She had heard her stepfamily come in, complaining about something. She really didn't listen to them, she was so lost in her own misery.

Eventually, overwhelmed by tears and the dancing, her body fell asleep, leading Naminè's mind to sweet oblivion.

And that led her to where she was today. Making breakfast for her stepfamily. She placed everything on the trays. She balanced one on her head, and one in each hand. She slowly made her way upstairs.

Larxene knocked her over. "Clumsy girl," she snarled, charging upstairs, calling for her daughters. Naminè picked up the trays, she had managed to catch two, but the third was scrambled. Naminè repaired it as best as she could, but she knew that she would have to remake it. She decided to remake it later. She might as well deliver the other two. She quietly entered Kairi's room, where the family had gathered. Larxene was explaining something joyfully. "Get up! Hurry, he'll be here any minute!"

"Who?" Kairi yawned, her hair sticking up in all directions.

"The prince! He's been hunting for that girl! The one who lost her slipper at the ball last night! They say he's madly in love with her."

Naminè dropped the trays. She knelt down in amazement. "The Prince?" she mumbled, picking up the dropped food.

"You lazy oaf," Larxene yelled, cuffing her. "Pick it up and then help my daughters get ready!"

"What for?" Selphie moaned, still not really awake.

"We're not that girl, why should we bother?" Kairi protested.

"Now, listen to me," Larxene snapped. "There's still a chance that one of you could get it."

"Us? But mother…!" the two protested in sync.

Larxene cut them off, "Listen, no one, not even the Prince knows who that girl was. That glass slipper is their only clue. Now the Prince is going to try it on every eligible maiden in the kingdom. If the one who the slipper fits can be found, they will become the Prince's bride!"

"Bride?" Naminè whispered.

"Bride?!" Kairi and Selphie shrieked, rushing to get dressed. They began to pile clothes into Naminè's arms while Naminè's eyes held a dreamy look, remembering the night before.

"What's the matter with her?" Kairi bellowed.

"Wake up stupid! We've got to get dressed!" Selphie screamed.

"Dressed?" Naminè mumbled. "Right. We must get dressed. Mustn't let him see me… like this," Naminè began to walk out of the room, leaving Kairi and Selphie shrieking protests after her.

Larxene's eyes narrowed as they stared after Naminè. Recognition flared in those eyes. Larxene silently followed after the daydreaming Naminè. Naminè didn't notice her. She went up to her tower room, the coldest, oldest in the house. She looked in the small mirror that hung on the wall, and ran a few fingers through her hair. She didn't notice her stepmother until it was too late.

"No! Don't!" she called out desperately wheeling around to face her stepmother. Larxene smirked and shut the door she had locked from the inside. Naminè ran up to the door and tried it, crying, sobbing. "You can't! You can't keep me locked up in here! Let me out! Let me out! Please!!" Naminè sank to the floor in despair, realizing that Larxene intended to keep her locked up, to prevent her from trying on the slipper. Naminè sniffled and buried her face in her knees as the tears came.

_That morning… at the palace…_

Marluxia knocked at Florence's door. There was no answer. He bit down the swear that rose in his throat, barely. Florence was better than Vexen at scrying people and he wanted to have her try to find this girl. He didn't want to go try the slipper on every maiden in the kingdom, but if that's what it took…

He rose his hand to knock again when another hand intercepted his. "Don't. She's exhausted from last night. The dancing tired her out." Vexen's hand let go of Marluxia's wrist. Marluxia turned to face the magician. Said magician was holding a tray of food, and looking quite worn out.

Marluxia raised his eyebrows. "And nothing else?" he asked spitefully.

"Aye. Nothing else. Just because you were foolish to let your lady love get away, doesn't mean you have to be a prick today. It's not really a good way to impress the lady." Vexen snapped.

"What do you know? You can't even muster the courage to ask Florence out!" Marluxia sniped.

"And how am I supposed to? She's sixteen; I'm thirty-two. It's like I'm robbing the cradle! Not to mention I helped to raise the girl. I can't ruin her reputation!" Vexen roared. He ran his free hand through his hair.

Marluxia looked slightly abashed. "Hadn't… thought of that. But Florence isn't that type of girl. She loves you. You're all that she ever talks about," he admitted. "I'll go then. Contact me when she wakes up."

Vexen inhaled and exhaled to calm down. "I kissed her last night. I didn't want to stop. I eventually did, but…" Vexen shook his head. "She was so tired, I doubt she would have stopped me if I had gone farther."

Marluxia listened quietly to Vexen's admission. "I doubt she would have stopped you if she was as fresh as a daisy. Now, I have to go find my love, so I will leave you with yours. Good luck."

Vexen stared at Marluxia's departing back. "smart ass," he snorted, still taking in Marluxia's words. He shifted his grasp on the tray and opened the door. He silently entered. The room was bathed in soft light from the window. Florence had insisted on having a room with a window and a flower box. An odd assortment filled it. Rosemaries, pansies, violets. A few roses grew in separate pots. Vexen absently took note of the flowers as he set the tray down on the careworn desk that dominated one corner of the room. He moved several books, observing the titles. Most of the tomes seemed to be about matter transformation, illusions, and spell endurance. Vexen snorted as he realized what Florence spell had been casting the night before. She had better stay out of Marluxia's way when he found the girl and found out who 'gave' the girl the dress. And then didn't tell him who the girl was. Of course the last part was more of Vexen's fault; he hadn't wanted Marluxia to disturb Florence. So he would take the blame for that one.

Vexen lifted his head when he heard the yawn. He turned and walked over to the bedside.

Florence had a terrible headache. It felt like Lexeaus, the captain of the guard, had slammed his tomahawk into her head several times. Her limbs hurt to move. She twisted into the pillow and buried her face in it. She had caught a glimpse of a silver hank of hair. She would have to reapply the dye spell she noted. Florence heard somebody moving about in her room, and tried to make no sound. But of course, her body disagreed. She involuntarily yawned. Whoever was looking around her room stopped and moved towards the bed. The bed shifted as the person sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Florence? Are you awake?" Vexen's voice whispered. Florence went scarlet, when she realized who was in her room.

"Sir,ohmygoddidImissmylessonohshitI'msosorry!" she said rapidly, twisting to face her master. Vexen pressed a finger to her lips.

"No. There will be no lessons today. You sapped almost all of your magic last night. Any more spells and you would have started sapping your life-force." Vexen scolded her. Florence looked away, slightly embarrassed.

"It was for a good purpose," she defended.

Vexen half-smiled. "Who was the girl?"

"A friend. Why do you want to know?" Florence asked suspiciously, a thread of jealousy rising in her chest. What if Naminè had caught Vexen's interest?

"Not me. Marluxia. He's quite frantic. And you seem to be the only person who knows who the girl is…"

"Wait, frantic?" Florence interrupted.

"Aye, frantic." Vexen confirmed. "The lummox forgot to get the maiden's name. He's gone out to look for her; he only has that slipper as a clue. He's going to try it on every maiden in the kingdom."

Florence groaned. "Gawd. I need to get to my friend's house," she tried to get up rapidly, but lay back down as soon as she tried, her head spinning.

"Slowly!" Vexen cautioned her worriedly, slipping an arm behind her back and helping her into a sitting position. "You shouldn't force yourself to do too much. Your body is still tired from the magic overuse."

"I don't care," Florence protested. "If Larxene figures out it was Naminè last night… I don't want anything bad to happen to Naminè" Florence broke off.

"Naminè? Is that the girl's name?" Vexen inquired.

Florence nodded absently. "I have to get to Naminè's house. If she's hurt…" her sentence trailed off. "Please Vexen," she stared right into his eyes.

Vexen stared right back, entranced. Emerald eyes met verdant eyes. He saw the pleading in them. "Fine," he said. "But first…" he stripped off his gloves and placed the tips of his fingers on her temples. "Relax." Florence inhaled and tried to relax. Vexen followed suit, and began to channel some of his magic to Florence.

Florence felt Vexen's magic flow into her. It was different to her, but as familiar as her own magic. Where her magic was green, warm, and churning, Vexen's was calm, icy and cold. It was a welcome change. It made her feel better almost immediately. Of course, being around Vexen made her feel better in general.

It seemed like Vexen had just started when he finished. He removed his fingers and studied Florence for a moment. Florence stared right back.

"um… could you move so that I can get up?" Florence asked sheepishly. Vexen leapt to his feet and moved out of the way. Florence shoved the covers away and unsteadily stood. Vexen had averted his eyes. Florence was wearing a floor-length nightgown, but it did nothing to disguise her young curves.

Florence changed as fast as she could, pulling out the changing screen for once. She was embarrassed that Vexen had seen her. She knew she wasn't the prettiest, but still. She pulled on the white button up long sleeve shirt, making sure to button the cuffs, followed by the flowing black skirt that brushed against the floor. She leaned against the wall as she pulled the black boots on. She stood up and straightened the entire outfit, before slipping the elegant black vest on. It had the royal sigil on it. Hopefully Larxene would think twice about attacking her this time. The last time Florence had tried defending Naminè, Larxene had stabbed at her with a knife. Florence still had the scar on her stomach from the encounter. Naminè had begged her to not to tell. Florence had acquiesced. And now Florence was kicking herself in the ass for her inaction. She should have acted last time. Last time, she had most of her magic. This time she only had enough left of Vexen's magic infusion to cast a small shield, or perhaps a small curse, if that. The rest had been used to restore her strength. "Shit," she cursed, as she came out from behind the screen.

Vexen stopped her before she got to the door. "One moment, please," he requested.

"We have to hurry though." Florence protested.

"Aye. But you can't go out with silver hair. Your father would kill both of us."

Florence pulled at a hank and sighed sheepishly. "Forgot about the hair," she admitted. Vexen grinned slightly.

"Let me do it," he requested.

Florence glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. "Like I could do it myself." Despite her sarcasm, she moved closer to Vexen and presented the back of her head to him. Vexen paused and ran a hand through her smooth, silver hair, mumbling the incantation. Behind his trailing hand, Florence's silver hair became a muddy brown. Florence shuddered a bit when Vexen's hand accidentally connected with the back of her neck. That sensation was back again.

"Done."

"Florence twisted around to face Vexen. "All right. Let's go." She began to walk away. "You are coming with, right?" she asked uncertainly.

Vexen stepped up and held out his arm. "Like I would let you go alone?" he retorted, as Florence slipped her arm around his. They walked out together.

_That afternoon, with Marluxia…_

Marluxia stepped out of the carriage. This was one of the last houses. He had had no luck so far. Marluxia sighed as the footman, who had brought a sitar with him, started up with yet another love song. Marluxia was starting to get ticked. Evidently so was the lilac haired driver, who snapped at the sitar player to stop. The sitar player stopped, but by the time Marluxia had reached the door, the music had restarted. Marluxia briskly knocked on the door, which was quickly answered by an older woman, who almost immediately started fawning over him. She ushered him into a parlor, while she went to fetch her daughters. Marluxia examined the slipper again. It was slight, made for a small foot. The slipper was delicately made, looking as if it would break easily. Marluxia snapped to attention when the woman reentered with her two daughters. Marluxia sighed inwardly. This was getting to be a long day.

_In Naminè's room…_

Naminè had stopped crying long ago. She now sat in the window seat, gloomily staring out at the scenery. She had seen the Prince come, the same man that she danced with the night before. She felt the tears coming again when she heard Florence.

"Naminè?" Florence's voice drifted up to Naminè. Naminè looked out the window. There on the ground so far below, stood Florence, accompanied by a blonde man. A black destrier was tied to a nearby tree.

Naminè tried opening the window. It was stuck. "Florence! I'm locked in here!" Florence seemed to get the message, as she turned and talked to the man. They seemed to reach an agreement, as Florence clutched the man's arm. The man seemed to say something and both Florence and the man rose into the air. Florence clutched her skirt in attempt to salvage her modesty, as the man concentrated on the spell. They floated up to the windowsill and cautiously stood on it. Once the man was certain that it was safe, he released the spell.

"Naminè, this is Vexen. Vexen this is Naminè," Florence introduced. Vexen nodded absently, studying the window.

Naminè squeaked a hello, as Vexen grabbed a part of the window and pressed in on it. It slowly cracked out of the frame. Vexen removed it carefully, and stepped in. Once in, he turned and grabbed Florence by the waist and helped her in.

"Thank you," Florence said primly, privately enjoying the feeling of his hands around her waist. "Now, to get Naminè out." She ran over to the door and jiggled the handle. "Damnit. It's locked."

"Move please," Vexen ordered politely. Florence listened and moved out of the way. Vexen put his hand to the lock and whispered a word. The lock popped open. Florence shoved Naminè towards the door, passing her the spare slipper and slipping it into the apron pocket.

"Hurry!" she told her friend worriedly. "We'll follow!"

_With Marluxia…_

Marluxia had had enough with these simpering idiots. He stood up, and politely tried to leave, but the woman, Larxene he had learned, would not let him leave. It took him twenty minutes to disentangle himself from the debacle, without upsetting anyone unduly.

They followed him to the door. He paused before exiting. "Are there no other… maidens in the house?"

"No," Larxene replied, an inaudible undercurrent layered her voice.

Marluxia turned to leave, but was stopped by a voice calling out, "Wait! Please wait! May I try it on?" Marluxia turned around. There, running down the stairs, was a thin girl, who looked very familiar.

Larxene had a look of anger on her face. "She's nothing. Just a house maid."

Marluxia shot Larxene a glare that could melt ice. "The slipper is to be tried on every maiden," he reminded her, stepping towards Naminè.

Larxene saw where this going. She couldn't allow it to progress any farther. If her daughters couldn't marry the Prince, then neither would Naminè. She discreetly stuck out her foot and tripped Marluxia.

Marluxia didn't fall over, but the slipper fell out of his hand and crashed to the floor, shattering into a thousand pieces. Marluxia almost lost his temper right there. He began to pick up the pieces. There went the chance to find the girl of his dreams. Small hands joined him, gentlely picking up the remains. Marluxia glanced up into familiar blue eyes. He returned his eyes to the shattered glass on the floor. "What to do now?"

"Perhaps… if it'll help," Naminè began.

"No, nothing can help," Marluxia despaired.

"But you see, I have the other slipper," Naminè said shyly, producing the other slipper. Marluxia's eyes widened as he beheld the other slipper. It was an exact twin of the one that had been left by the maiden. He slipped it on Naminè's proffered foot. It fit perfectly.

Marluxia stood, pulling Naminè to her feet with him. They stared into each others' eyes, so happy at being reunited that words could not express it.

The moment was cut short. Larxene snarled and reached for the closet sharp object. Before she could throw it, two spells resounded, hitting her and sent her flying. Marluxia pulled Naminè to the floor in order to dodge the spells.

Vexen and Florence descended the stairs, Florence leaning heavily on Vexen. "That's a rather risqué position, don't you agree Vexen?" Florence managed to joke. Vexen laughed as Marluxia pulled himself off Naminè and lifted her to her feet. He pulled her into an embrace as he observed the blob that had once been Larxene. It was oozing.

"What did you two do to her?" Marluxia asked, cautiously poking Larxene.

Vexen paused in thought. "I cast a swelling curse…"

"And I cast a boil curse. It looks like those two shouldn't be mixed," Florence completed weakly.

Marluxia glanced at Vexen. "I thought she was asleep."

"She was. She woke up." Vexen said drolly, his arm tightening involuntarily around Florence's waist.

"Are you all right Naminè?" Florence inquired.

Naminè nodded.

"I'm not going to ask," Marluxia sighed. "Well, Naminè my darling, will you come with me? Will you marry me?"

Naminè glanced up into Marluxia's hopeful eyes. She blushed and whispered. "I would love too."

Marluxia's eyes ignited with joy as he swooped down to give his beloved a kiss. Naminè leaned into him and wrapped her arms around him.

Vexen and Florence watched the scene. "Let's leave'em alone," Florence suggested.

Vexen nodded. "Yes. They deserve their happy ending." They ushered the shell shocked Kairi and Selphie out. They dragged Larxene out as well, leaving Marluxia and Naminè alone. And quite happy.

Later, when they could leave, Vexen lifted Florence onto the destrier and mounted behind her. With a snap of the reins they moved off. Florence leaned into Vexen. They rode off silently. "Florence?" Vexen whispered.

"Yes?"

"Can… we have a happy ending too?" Vexen whispered uncertainly.

Florence looked up at her teacher, her love. "Aye," she whispered demurely. "I believe we can." Vexen grinned and leaned down to kiss Florence. Florence responded passionately.

**And they all lived happily ever after. **

**The End.**

**Hi! It's me again. I thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to read my fanfiction. All advice is accepted, flames will be given to Vexen for his experiments. So, um, review please?? **

**Thank you!! And have a nice day.**


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